


Toon Fever

by VoidofRoses



Series: The Therapy of one Yakko Warner [4]
Category: Animaniacs
Genre: Gen, IT WAS GONNA HAPPEN SOONER OR LATER, obligatory sick fic, yakko needs to learn to trust the adults in his life ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:01:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27932758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidofRoses/pseuds/VoidofRoses
Summary: Being sick sucked, but it didn’t have to suck alone.
Relationships: Brain & Pinky (Animaniacs), Dr. Otto Scratchansniff & Dot Warner & Wakko Warner & Yakko Warner
Series: The Therapy of one Yakko Warner [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2033521
Comments: 15
Kudos: 261





	Toon Fever

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sick right now so naturally I had to write something to do with my current hyperfixation. Enjoy and come join me over on tumbler @enbyyakko

Something was not right.

Dot sat up in bed, rubbing at one of her eyes as her other blinked blearily before looking at her glow in the dark watch. The time read 7am, and while she would usually be all about that beauty sleep, it was quiet in the water tower that she inhabited with her brothers.

 _Too_ quiet if you asked her.

7am meant Yakko was up and at the kitchen counter catching up on the worldwide disasters that had happened overnight while making their lunches for the day if they had work. They had a sound recording session for vocals on that new CD the directors had planned for Christmas release (even if CDs were all but obsolete, there were still a few people who listened to them), so when she looked there to see if he was making her green goddess sandwich, the dark of the kitchen area implied that he was not.

“Hey, Wakko,” she began, looking across to her brother’s hammock. They lounged back, Switch in hand and one leg dangling over the side before he looked at her, hand fetching a snack from his hammer space.

“‘Sup, sis?”

“Where’s Yakko?”

Wakko blinked owlishly at her before he lifted his hat and put his Switch in it, setting it firmly on his head and turning upside down in his hammock, making it sway. “Hey, bro, wake up ti...” He paused, then flipped himself back up and shrugged. “He’s not in the ballpit.”

“Thank you, Sherlock Holmes,” Dot said dryly, unfurling her hair from her curlers ever so gently, biting her bottom lip with a small frown before she glanced towards the bathroom. Light shone through a crack and she smirked, climbing down off her bed and landing on her feet as Wakko tumbled out of his hammock to join her. “I think I have an idea.” They approached the door, looking at each other as they heard heaving, and Dot raised her hand to rap her knuckles on the wood. “Yakko?”

The toilet flushed and there was shuffling, the tap turning on and off, and Yakko appeared at the door, looking a pale shade of grey compared to his usual inky dark fur. His ears flicked when he saw them, mouth opening and -

No sound came out except for a croak.

His younger siblings shared a look before Wakko spread his hands and shrugged at him. “What was that?” Placing his hands on his hips, Yakko tapped his foot before he reached for his back pocket and they felt their own buzz, indicating a text.

_I’ve lost my voice._

Dot paused, frowning. She’d never heard of a toon losing their voice before - toons rarely got sick unless it was the plot of an episode (or movie in her case), and even in the silent age of film there had been text boxes after characters spoke. “Did you have a panic attack?” she asked gently, reaching for his hand to give it a squeeze as Wakko shifted beside her. Yakko glanced away and nodded - since coming clean to his sibs about his sessions with Scratchansniff after the studio debacle, they’d started noticing his little tics. His thumb slid over the keypad and she looked down at her screen.

 _I’ll be okay, don’t worry. It’s just a frog,_ the text read.

Opening his mouth, there was a croaking sound and a frog hopped out almost on cue, its skin billowing underneath its mouth before it leaped away and out the door. Dot cringed and crossed her arms, huffing as Wakko laughed. “Not funny,” she said with a scowl. She yanked him out of the bathroom, Yakko nearly stumbling over the top of her as she pulled him over to their beds. “If you’re that sick you should’ve told us.”

“Yeah,” Wakko chimed in, taking his other arm as Yakko let a small whine leave his throat before coughing. “You can’t take care of us all the time, bro.”

 _But that recording session..._ Yakko fumbled with his phone, then shook his head and spoke hoarsely. “I’m fine, I swear. A shot of medicine and I’ll...”

“Yakko Warner, don’t you dare say you’re fine!” Dot turned to face him, stomping her foot and giving him her most sisterly glare, which caused both of her brothers to back up a little. “You’re in no condition for recording music of any kind, let alone speaking lines.”

“But if I don’t it’ll spell trouble for all of us,” he tried arguing, gesturing with his hands as his voice faded over the sentence. Yakko swallowed, sniffed, and swallowed again before he tapped his foot. “I can’t...”

“You can and you will.” Both older brother and little sister turned to look at their sibling. Wakko didnt usually speak with that tone of voice, or any tone really, much more of a visual toon than verbal, but the look on their face was deeply troubling to Yakko. “We’ll handle Norita.”

Yakko’s face greyed a little more.

“We’ll let the studio know you can’t make it today,” Dot added, taking him by the arm again and pushing him to the beds. “Take my bed for a change. That ball pit can’t be any good for your back, especially not when you’re sick. And don’t even look at your phone.” Their older brother gave them a look before he sighed in defeat and his shoulders slackened, turning to face them as he lifted his phone to text them.

_Okay, I’ll rest today. But don’t cause any problems. Don’t even talk to Norita. Just call Scratchy and ask him to explain the situation. I don’t want to read any news about the main offices being damaged, or any part of the studio lot for that matter._

“Aww.” Wakko had his mallet half pulled out of his hammer space, pouting as Yakko motioned for them to hand it over. The middle sibling reluctantly stepped over and handed the mallet to his brother, who immediately stashed it into his own hammer space, turning to walk back to their sister. “I have a bigger one still,” he whispered in her ear as he walked past, reaching in his clothing pit for their sweater and pulling it on.

Dot motioned for Yakko to get up the ladder to her bed, following him up there and letting him curl under the covers before she did them up around him. “We’ll be gone for a while. Anything you want before we leave?” _Water_ , he responded, and she nodded, heading back down as he settled in.

Yakko looked up at the canopy of his sister’s bed, blankets tucked up under his chin and listening to his siblings rummaging around downstairs. There were glow in the dark stars stuck under the canopy, the memory of putting them up there for her coming back to him. The stars had been acquired during one of the tower cleaning routines where they’d been temporarily let out, and Dot had badgered him into putting them over her bed to mimic the stars in the sky that they never got to see.

“Here you go.” Dot had climbed up the ladder and was placing the glass of water that he’d requested on the little shelf above her bed head, giving him a concerned look as Wakko did their lunches. “I’ll text Scratchy and ask him to come by and check on you when he has time.” She placed her hand on his forehead as though to check his temperature and he swatted it away, ears pinning back as he frowned at her. “We’ll be fine,” she reassured him, patting his hand. “Like Wakko said, let us take care of you for a change.” Yakko’s look firmed and she sighed. “And I’ll make sure he doesn’t hammer Norita into outer space if she doesn’t let you take a few days off.”

Dot would have her own way whether or not Wakko did anything anyway. She leaned over to give Yakko a kiss on the cheek and tucked the covers under his chin before scaling the ladder down and joining Wakko, who had his hands in his pockets and their lunches under his hat. Yakko watched their shadows along the walls of the water tower and then stared up at the glowy stars again when he heard the door shut.

The silence was almost deafening.

Pulling his tablet out from his hammer space, Yakko opened his Spotify account and scrolled through his podcast list until he came to one he hadn’t caught up fully on. Sighing, Yakko slid under the covers and let the noise distract him from the silence, not even realising his eyes were closing and he drifted off to sleep.

_Sleep is confusing. Dreams are baffling. The concept of transitioning from one perceived reality to another is a tolerated madness._

* * *

They really should have installed an elevator or ladder or something in the water tower years ago, but Director Plotz had always said it was a useless premise. Otto von Scratchansniff leaned against the tower and caught his breath, his hand against the cold steel of the building. It was bitterly cold up here for the beginning of December, and the psychiatrist bundled his jacket around himself tighter as he knocked on the door.

“Yakko?”

No response.

With a small huff, he took hold of the edge of the door and opened it with a creak - when Dot had asked him to check on Yakko he had thought that they would be home by now, considering it was 2pm in the afternoon. Honestly he was kind of surprised that the studios weren’t on fire by now. Scratchansniff peered into the dim tower, climbing over the entrance and shutting the door behind him, being welcomed by silence.

Only not quite.

The sound of whining reached Otto’s ears coming from the beds at the far back, and he made his way through the kitchen and dining areas to reach the mismatched spaces. Taking note of the absence of the teenager from the ballpit, he remembered Dot telling him Yakko was in her bed and he placed his hand on the pole leading up to it. “Yakko? Can you hear me?” There was a whimper and Otto frowned in concern, reaching for the ladder that led to Dot’s bed. “I’m coming up.”

The bedsheets were a tousled mess, a tablet abandoned near the pillow, one leg thrown this way and an arm the other, his ears pinned back and a whimper leaving his throat, appearing to have a nightmare. Otto felt something tug at his heartstrings, and he reached over to shake the toon. “Yakko. Yakko, wake up, it’s only a dream.”

Blue eyes fluttered and he gave a croaky moan. “Dad?” He could barely understand Yakko’s voice as it was but he blinked at the title. “So hot...”

Placing his hand to his forehead, Otto retracted it almost as soon as he did so, pulling away. Yakko’s forehead sizzled, a rise of steam coming from it after Otto’s touch that would have been comical in any other situation. He turned and sat on the edge of the bed as he pondered what to do, placing his hand over Yakko’s as the boy curled against him with another whine. He wasn’t a medical doctor, far from it, but...

Ah, here she was.

Otto’s thumbs flew over the keys as he texted his old colleague, hoping that she was awake in whatever part of the world she was in now. _Heloise?_

There was a moment of waiting, of fretting over the toon now refusing to let go of him, before his phone buzzed. _What on earth do you want, doctor, it’s 3am._

_I apologise for waking you._

_I was already awake. What’s wrong, my friend?_

_One of the Warners, Yakko, is sick. What would you do for a toon with a fever?_

There was another pause for a few minutes before she responded. _Oh no the poor thing. Normal treatment for fever is ibuprofen to bring the temperature down, and he should be drinking plenty of water._

Otto looked at the shelf, at the still full glass of water. _I think they tried covering that._

He could just hear Heliose sigh at him. _In that case, I would make him drink some water with ibuprofen and apply a wet cloth to his forehead. Keep watch over him, doctor, I don’t know how fevers affect toons._

Otto thanked her and promised to keep her updated, turning to Yakko and placing his hand back to his forehead, which was now pressed against his side. “Yakko, please tell me where you keep your medication.”

“‘th’oom,” was croaked out, but he didn’t let go.

“Yakko, please let me get up so I can help you.”

“‘ll be fine,” he slurred, before there was an inky splat and Otto looked behind him to see Yakko had melted into the mattress and blankets. “‘rsly, I’m fine.”

Otto had never moved so fast in his life.

The medication turned out to be in the bathroom cupboard above the sink, all put together by toon physics long ago no doubt. It looked like a posh vanity from the 30s. Filling a glass with water, he made his way back up to the bed, glass and Advil in hand, to find Yakko back in corporeal form and sprawled back on the bed, groaning. “Here,” he said, placing the items in his hand on the shelf next to the unfinished glass to help the boy sit up properly before he motioned for Yakko to open his mouth. His tongue lolled out to the end of the bed and along the bottom floor of the tower, and Otto had to use toon physics after placing the tablet on his tongue and snapping it back into Yakko’s mouth before handing the boy the glass. Yakko took a huge gulp of water before handing it back to him and curling back under the blankets.

“You should have called me earlier if you were feeling like this,” Otto tutted at him, checking the toon’s pulse and looking at his watch.

“‘nt want to bother,” Yakko grumbled, brow knitting together. “Where’s Wakko and Dot?”

“Studio,” he responded, making mental note of his pulse and tucking his hand and arm back under the blankets. “I spoke with Ms Norita - she approved of the certificate I gave her for you to have the next few days off.”

“Can’t tho’.”

“You can and you are, young man.” Otto gave him a look with a raised eyebrow before pushing Yakko back down onto his back. “You are always taking care of others, Yakko, why do you not let others take care of you?”

“Didn’t know this was a sesh.” Yakko gave him a smirk and the psychiatrist sighed and rolled his eyes. “Thanks, doc. I’m already starting to feel a little better.”

“Then what was that about calling me father earlier?”

“What?” Yakko’s cheeks flared red and Otto feared that the fever had risen before he realised that it had in fact been Wakko that had spoken, looking down to see the younger Warners come in with Pinky and Brain riding on Wakko’s hat and Dot’s flower respectively. Wakko grinned. “You called Scratchy daddoo?”

“I-I did not!”

“Now now, Wakko, he’s very sick,” Otto interrupted, watching Yakko pull the covers over his head and the four others make their way over and up the ladder to join them around the bed. It was a good thing Dot preferred to be treated like a princess and had a queen size bed.

“We heard you were sick so I made cheesecake, zoit!” Pinky said as he slid off of Wakko’s hat and motioned for the boy to hand him the container he was carrying. Brain helped him carry it over as Yakko sat up, giving them an awkward smile. “But it turned into cheesecake cupcakes.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Pinky,” he said hoarsely, watching the two mice open the lid to reveal cupcakes with H O P E U G E T B E T T E R S O O N written on them in pink frosting.

“I wanted to,” the taller mouse said with a big smile. “And Brain helped.”

The big headed mouse had the decency to blush, waving his hand nonchalantly. “I simply wanted to see what Pinky was making such a fuss over if it interrupted our plans for tonight.”

“Why? What were you guys going to do tonight instead?” Dot asked, curling into her big brother’s side.

“The same thing we do every night. Try to take over the world.”

“Well it was date night but this is more important.”

The mice both spoke at the same time and gave each other looks before their tails intertwined, Brain grumbling under his breath about “not in front of the kids” as Pinky nuzzled him. “Not on my lap, guys, gross,” Yakko teased, handing cheesecake cupcakes around to his siblings and the psychiatrist. “How’d recording go?”

“Great. They’ll add your voice into the song as soon as you’re feeling better,” Wakko responded, throwing his cupcake into his mouth and chomping on it. “Technology these days, am I right?”

“We bought you something too.” Dot sat up slightly, looking at Wakko before reaching into her purse at his nod.

“It’s not even my birthday,” he joked with a wheeze as she pulled out a present, handing it over to him. The tag read ‘get well soon, we love you’ with their signatures scrawled in chicken scratch. Undoing the wrapping, he picked up a lavender coloured teddy bear, which had been sitting on top of a green scarf that looked like the one he’d worn during their movie.

“The bear has lavender in it,” Wakko added helpfully, and while Yakko couldn’t smell anything the colour was his favourite. “It’s supposedly calming and helps you sleep better at night.”

“It’s getting colder too,” Dot said, watching him wrap the infinity scarf around his neck and feeling the warmth of the wool. “You need to start wearing more than your slacks full of baloney.”

“You guys.” Yakko couldn’t believe his siblings sometimes. He sat the cupcake container down next to where Pinky and Brain stood conversing with Scratchansniff and reached to hug them tight, feeling them bury their faces in his side and neck.

“We love you, big bro,” Wakko mumbled into the scarf, his hat askew on his head. “Don’t scare us like that again.”

“Yeah, or I’ll kill you myself,” Dot chirped. “Promise us.”

He laughed, the sound coming out in a croaking wheeze but coming out nonetheless. “Okay, sibs. I promise,” he said, before adding, “but you do remember we scared Death off so we’re technically immortal, right?”

Before either of his siblings had a chance to respond, Brain interrupted them by clearing his throat. “If I may,” he interjected, interrupting the three toons and gaining their attention. “Pinky and I will stay here to make sure everything is alright while Yakko recovers. Doctor Scratchansniff will be on standby in case anything goes wrong.”

“Sleepover!” Pinky cheered, throwing his hands up.

“I will be close by if you need anything,” the psychiatrist added, resting his hands on his knees. “As I have patients, I cannot guarantee that I will always be on hand but I will inform Ralph to do as required.”

For a toon that had felt like he was nothing but a replaceable scrap of paper, Yakko could feel his stomach swell with happiness. Sitting there surrounded by coworkers and his siblings, he was sure he’d recover in no time.

Or...no, that was his stomach.

“Excuse me,” he muttered, pulling himself out of bed and flying down the ladder to dash to the toilet.

Being sick sucked, but it didn’t have to suck alone.

**Author's Note:**

> I realised after this that I said Pinky made cheesecake and I didn’t want this to turn into another milk fic so imagine he made it with soy milk and soy based products :)


End file.
